Chapter 13 I'd gotten used to the smell of antiseptic by now, but my heart was pounding. Something told me today wasn't just another checkup. When the last piece of gauze slipped free, I finally saw myself in the mirror propped up by the bed. My chest squeezed so tight I thought I'd suffocate. That girl staring back... she wasn't me. She had sharp cheekbones, lips that looked fuller but cruel somehow, a beauty that was too bold, too striking. And the scars, faint but real, crawling across my skin. My old face, the soft one Rufus used to cup in his hands, was gone. I dropped my gaze, shaking. "This... this isn't me," I whispered, voice cracking. Peter leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching me like I was about to explode. Then he grinned, trying to lighten it up. "Scars are badass, sweetheart. Means you lived. Half the world's rotting underground and you're still here. That's pretty damn cool." I shook my head, tears slipping before I could stop them. "But I don't even know who I am anymore." And that's when I heard his voice. Cold. Commanding. A tone that cut through everything else. "That's good," Vincenzo said from the doorway, mask still hiding his face. "Annette Anderson is dead. Start getting used to it." I froze. My heart skipped. My name. He said my name. I turned to him, wide-eyed. "Wait... you know who I am?" Before I could get another word out, Peter piped in with a cocky smirk. "Of course he does. He knows everything. Watch this, mummy girl." He tossed a tablet onto the bed beside me. I picked it up with shaky fingers, the screen glowing in my face. My breath caught in my throat. There I was. Or rather... there I wasn't. Headlines flashing. Annette Anderson confirmed dead in Paris shooting. Pictures of my old face. My name plastered everywhere. And then the knife twisted deeper. Photos of Rufus and Maisie. Arm in arm. Him smiling like he hadn't smiled at me in years. Maisie holding her belly, the caption screaming pregnant with first child. My stomach twisted so hard I wanted to throw up. My hands shook, but I forced myself to put the tablet down. I couldn't break here, not in front of them. Not when Vincenzo's mask eyes were watching me like I was some pawn on his chessboard. I bit down the sob clawing up my throat. If Rufus had moved on this easily, maybe he was the one who wanted me gone. Maybe the family had always been waiting for me to disappear. That night over dinner, Peter finally leaned close and talked low enough so Miranda couldn't overhear. "You know," he muttered, stabbing his fork into a piece of chicken, "Paris gangs don't shoot women by accident. Not like that. Somebody paid for it. Somebody wanted you gone." I froze, staring at him. "You mean... it wasn't random?" Chapter 13 213 50.7% 11:38 am He shrugged, but his eyes were dead serious. "Nothing's random in our world, sweetheart. Someone wanted your head off the board." My hands tightened around the fork until my knuckles turned white. I thought about Rufus. About Maisie. About his parents who never wanted me near their golden son. The pieces started clicking together in my head like a lock opening. I didn't cry this time. I just swallowed it down and let the anger settle deep in my bones, heavier than grief, hotter than pain. Later that night, Vincenzo came to my room. He didn't knock, just stepped in like the place belonged to him. His voice was calm, almost too calm. "We need to talk. Alone." For a second I thought about refusing. But something in his tone, that steady weight of command, made me nod. "Alright," I said softly, meeting his mask. "I'll listen." The study smelled like smoke and money. Books everywhere, polished shelves, the kind of room that screamed power. My steps felt too soft on the rug as Vincenzo motioned me toward the couch. He didn't say a word, just moved like a shadow, silent and heavy. Then he dropped a folder on the coffee table. The sound was louder than it should've been. My heart jumped like a rabbit. I stared at it. My hands twitched, itching to touch it but scared too. When I finally opened it, my breath stuttered. My whole life was staring back at me. Papers. My birth certificate. Hospital files. Adoption papers. Photos of a baby girl with eyes like mine. Only... not the same name. Not the same story. "What... what is this?" Vincenzo leaned forward, slow, deliberate. His voice was deep, steady, no kindness in it. "You're not Annette Joyce Anderson. You're the missing heir of Don Edwardo Lombardo. The north's underworld king. The man even syndicates and politicians feared." I shook my head hard. "No. No, I'm Annette. I grew up in an orphanage. I married Rufus. I'm-" My chest tightened. "I'm not whoever you're saying I am." He didn't even blink. Miranda walked in quietly, a second folder in her arms. She laid it out, flipping open medical records. "Your DNA. We compared it with Edwardo's records. It matches. You're his daughter." I looked between them, panic building. "No. That's not possible. The Andersons-" Vincenzo cut in, his tone sharp as a knife. "The Andersons lied. Listen carefully. Edwardo was the old Anderson's only son. Pure blood. Raul... Raul was not. He was born from his mother. That makes Raul Edwardo's stepbrother. Not by blood." My hands trembled as I gripped the folder. "You're saying... Raul Anderson isn't even a real Anderson?" 2/3 50.7% 11:38 am Vincenzo's mask tilted slightly, like a nod. "Exactly. Edwardo carried the true line. Raul carried nothing but greed. And when Edwardo refused to play their game, he built his own empire. The Lombardo empire. He wanted no part of the Anderson name." Miranda's eyes softened, but her voice didn't. "When enemies struck Edwardo, his baby daughte vanished. Everyone thought she died. But you didn't. You were taken, hidden, placed in another crib. That baby... was you." My throat burned, my pulse racing. I pushed the papers away like they were poison. "No. I'm not I can't be. I'm not some mafia princess. I'm just me. I'm just a wife. A mother. I cooked meals, I.. I loved Rufus. That's who I am. Not this." Vincenzo's voice dropped colder. "Normal wives don't survive three bullets. Normal wives don' have enemies paying millions to put them in the ground. You're Lombardo blood. Stop pretending otherwise." My vision blurred with tears. I wanted to scream, to tear the whole folder apart. To burn it. But my body wouldn't move. Miranda slid the papers closer. "You don't have to accept it tonight. But the blood doesn't lie. You are Edwardo's daughter." I whispered, broken. "So what now? You expect me to forget Annette Joyce and... and become this Lombardo girl I never even knew?" Title: After Breakup, Spoiled by Three Big Shot Brothers (English-dubbed) On the brink of her wedding, she faces heartbreak as her fiancé calls it off. 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